Page 72 of Heartless

“MJ! Where are you, baby?” I call out as I arrive on the second floor.

Running to our bedroom, I find the closet doors open and clothes on the floor. Stepping inside my closet to walk through to hers, I find that my suit section has been cleared out, and several other items are missing.

Did someone rob us? I move to her section of the closet and find that all her expensive ballgowns and couture clothing are still there. The only items missing are her jeans, sweats, sundresses, and dance attire.

That’s odd.

I pull out my phone and dial her number, but it goes directly to voicemail. I call again with the same results.

“MJ, baby, I just got home, and I don’t know what’s happened. Please call me to let me know that you’re okay,” I say into her voicemail as my voice shakes with fear.

My next call is about to be nine-one-one until I see an envelope lying on the bed with my name scribbled on it in large, looping letters.

MJ’s handwriting.

My heart thunders in my chest as I wonder if I even want to read it. I stuff my phone away because now I know that she hasn’t been hurt. Or at least not by her previous assailant.

The only attacker in this scenario is me.

I know that she’s left me, and that realization snatches the breath from me. Pain jabs into my chest like a jagged piece of glass, tearing at the flesh and leaving chunks of unrecognizable, ripped flesh in its place.

I drop down on the bed and undo the laces of my Oxfords before I remove my cufflinks and set them on the nightstand beside me, prolonging the moment of confirmation. When I’ve finished that, I remove my shirt and then finally pick up the envelope.

Her handwriting is beautiful and loopy.

I pull the envelope to my nose and inhale. I catch the faint fragrance of her perfume before I pull it away and slide a thumbnail underneath it.

Onyx,

I don’t know what we’re doing anymore. I hate what we’ve become. As much as I love you, I don’t love what we’re doing to one another. Pushing you away was the only way that I could protect your heart because I’m not completely myself anymore.

I know this, but I also know that I don’t want anyone fiddling around in my head trying to help me sort things out. I’ve never trusted doctors, and you know this, so I’m not about to change now.

I saw how hard you were trying to be here for me. But you were right. What you had to give wasn’t enough. It’s no accident that I pushed you away.

I couldn’t love you the way that you deserve to be loved. The anxiety and depression pulled me under so deep that I don’t have it in me to care anymore.

I’m tired of being afraid of every damn thing, and I’m tired of not feeling desirable enough for you.

What’s worse is that I hate that you don’t want a child yet, and you don’t have the courage to tell me that. You know that’s all that I wanted, and yet, you wouldn’t push for it the way that I did.

I’m hurting, and I have nothing to offer you or anyone else right now. Which is why you need to be free.

I think that you love your freedom too much which is why I wonder why you asked me to marry you. Part of me feels like I was a challenge for you because I wouldn’t have sex with you.

It’s not so hard to stop flirting with women and desiring them if you truly love me. I represent a loss of freedom for you, and having children would only intensify that feeling for you.

I get it.

But I need what I need, too, Onyx. I just don’t see how we can both have what we want.

I’m also going to say what my heart already knows.

I don’t think that one woman could ever be enough for you. You crave the attention and the adoration from women, and that never bothered me. I know that I teased you, but it really didn’t. Not until now.

You’ve changed, Onyx, and not for the better. Since Sharla came around, things between us have grown worse than they already were.

I saw how she looked at you, and I know that your late nights are because of her.

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